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Ancient fragrances plume from the stovetop, furling out from kitchen doorways to permeate all inner airspace. Cinnamon, clove, vanilla bean…an entire melange of scents yet to be discerned. Festive spices waken the heart, drawing all within reach to taste a cup of soul-stirring joy. A mugful of cider warms chilled fingertips and invigorates winter-worn immune systems. Mulling spices cheer the home and welcome passersby. In the icy darkness of our world, I crave a mugful of comfort to sustain my soul.

Invisible delights far more ancient than these stir my spirit. Breathing them in rejuvenates my weary heart. I’m drawn to taste the aromatic wonders of His Love. Mulling over the Word of Life draws my lips into praiseful grins. Cheer-warmed fingers and toes wriggle to share joy. Coursing with Spirit-flavors, my soul strengthens against the onslaught of worldly afflictions. I rush to invite passersby with hugs, greetings, or sweet-scented smiles.

Have a merry, mulling-scriptured Christmas!

Some unknown thing awaits me. I can’t shake it like a Christmas present. No matter how I strain on my toes and stretch my fingertips to lay hold, it remains out of sight. Wrapped in silver boxes and bound with golden ribbons, or bundled in ragged scraps… it’ll come just the same. I want it to glitter, and am tempted to pry. Despite advertising implications, stores can’t sell it. Father Christmas lacks the magic to create it.

Father God crafts and holds my unseen future in His hands. I ask to peek, to know ahead of time what’s coming. Sometimes I try to make it myself, but it crumbles to dust. Waiting on God to author the future deepens faith.
When the time comes for me to receive it, then it becomes my present. I can stare at its surface, assessing its value by the outer appearance. Rags might dampen my gratitude if I limit my view to the box. Circumstances would tempt me to set the box aside and allow my mind to be consumed with thoughts of a previous or future gift.
My other option is to open the present to discover the blessings it holds inside. Glory and faith leap from within it, the Spirit scooping anointing with each word of gratitude. I don’t want to miss another gift this year. Oh, here’s another one right now.
For the One Who holds the future, the time is always now.
Love the Lord in each moment. Blessings from Christ to you.

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